starlightinhertears

1. The night you left I changed my sheets, in some effort to remove you from the place where I sleep, but  I cried into the dirty pillow case like I could mingle us through our remaining molecules. You still seeped into my dreams for three hours until I had to get up. You asked, Why did I never meet your parents? And I told you I never thought you'd want to see the tangled roots that I keep shooting into the earth, trying to find a clump of dirt to stick in. So you sighed while my eyes swelled and told me that  I was loved. I thought, "Habibi" and "Sister" "teacher," "Gifted" and "Beautiful" and how I cherish those words

Katherine has bright red shoes that she wears to seduce you. She knows they remind you of burning buildings and me. She's a witch anyway. You put lillies on my grave after they found me, all O.D.'d on rainbows and the rods of sunshine I pushed down my throat. (You knelt at my grave, how sombre and appropriate- spending the time on your knees so you could understand my disposition.) Rewind six months, when I called you silly and spat at the ground near your feet. I wasn't really mad at you, I was just mad you never asked me to marry you in a church yard in spring. I stormed out to down whiskey and cigarettes like the whole dam

Two years ago today, I fell in love with a boy made of dandelion stems and flecks of summer. He could fly, he told me, but only when he was alone. I never saw it, but I believed it with all my heart. He also told me that there was no such thing as monsters (but that was one thing I could never bring myself to blindly know). Throughout twenty four months of knowing him, the world unravelled. All the little strings that the scientists say hold us together, they fell out to reveal a bald nothing. I took to bringing him little tokens of my affection. Paper Valentines, pretty and red. Dream Catchers, string died dark green. [The biggest lie I

If my bones were made of coral they would be no sooner crushed than the calcium they are now. Your weight hangs like a heavy pendulum, swinging with the gravity of this moment. [Your skin connects with mine and the fire flies shoot off spelling "passion" through the thick afternoon haze] My blood is paint thinner and twenty percent alcohol. 'No officer, I'm not drunk just really fucked.' (up). [You are everywhere and nowhere at once.] My brain is made of dendrons, weeping willows wrapping all their crucifixes about each other, like Nature having sex with Death. (Can you guess which one I feel I am?) [I want to put you

When I was little, I used to believe that my stuffed animals came alive at night and said mean things about me. That they protected me but they didn't like me, not one bit. A hat is such a symbol, like a tatoo, and like a bracelet and like holding hands. I like holding your hand, and I'm scared. When I am scared. I am scared. What if you say it even though you don't mean it, and I fall for it like I fall for people when they say such things. I want you to mean it. I want to say it because I know I would mean it. I am afraid of being a fool. I am afraid of being alone. I am afraid when giant moths land on my pillow and then crawl up my arm bec